


o ye gods

by only_partly



Series: gospel truth [4]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:55:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22600582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/only_partly/pseuds/only_partly
Summary: "ovechkin and malkin coming together early" title of my new fic coming soon to ao3— bro. (@foreverkneeld)February 2, 2020
Relationships: Nicklas Backstrom/Alexander Ovechkin, Nicklas Backstrom/Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin/Alexander Ovechkin
Series: gospel truth [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1504262
Comments: 8
Kudos: 45





	o ye gods

Sasha has known Zhenya for a long time. Closing in on a few millennia, now, and he’s known him in another sense for a whole year and a bit, now. He still enjoys a hard played bout, whether it’s across an Elysian field or an ice rink, and it’s always going to get his blood up and ready for a fuck. 

His point streak broken and a loss to the Pens in the books, he feels like he’d really like an orgasm. Whether or not Nicke agrees is the real question, but he’s been  _ so _ good, really. He hasn’t come since  — well, since Friday. Friday he rode Nicke until his legs gave out and then Nicke brought him off neatly into a shirt he suspected Nicke had wanted an excuse to get rid of. 

The wealth of goals has, maybe, translated to him being spoiled this new year. He’s certain Sid thinks so; battling through a wealth of injuries and setbacks in order to drag his team into a playoff spot. And he’s seen the highlights; Zhenya’s been doing just as much if not more. The four of them have contrived to see one another in snatches here and there, but now,  _ now _ , they have the better part of two days together, and Sasha is determined he’s going to get his dick in Zhenya’s ass and hopefully someone else’s dick in his own. 

“It’s because Zhenya deserve a good fuck,” he tries to explain to Nicke, on the drive home, “He is scoring so much! And keeping team encourage, with Sid injured for so long.”

Nicke raises an eyebrow. “And you’re the one to do the fucking?”

“Of course. I’m fuck best. After you, of course.” He hurries to add. He doesn’t think he hurried fast enough, though, because Nicke is still giving him that unimpressed look.

“If I let you fuck him,” Nicke says, “I might not let you come.”

Sasha feels the familiar pleasant twist in his stomach that means he could tip over into subspace at the drop of a hat  — or a well-crafted sentence. They’re close enough to home that he just says, “Yes, Nicke.”

Taking that as the signal it is, Nicke reaches over, one hand on the wheel, the other casually groping Sasha through his slacks. “Not sure  _ you _ deserve to come, however much Geno does. He had an assist and four hits today. What did you have? Four shots on goal and nothing to show for it.”

“Sorry, Nicke,” Sasha says, delighting in the fairy story that he’s worse at hockey than Zhenya. “I do better next time; I promise.”

“You’d better.” Nicke pulls into the garage. “Clothes off as soon as you get in. I’ll talk to Geno and see if he’s willing to let you fuck him. You don’t talk.”

“Yes, Nicke.”

Sasha bounds inside, making quick work of his suit and stands bouncing a little on his toes, waiting for Nicke to get inside. Nicke’s on the phone when he wanders in, clearly talking to Sid and Zhenya, and he points to the rug in front of the couch before going into the bedroom.

Obediently, Sasha kneels in his usual place, clasping his hands behind his back so he’s not tempted to touch. The front door opens before Nicke comes back, Sid and Zhenya coming in with their overnight bags slung over shoulders. Sid stops short when he sees him, already flushing, but Zhenya only looks him up and down.

Sasha doesn’t speak; he doesn’t know if Nicke meant not at all or not about fucking Zhenya, but he’s not going to risk it. Instead he just straightens his shoulders, settling himself more into the rug beneath him, head tilted back enough so that he can look at them from under his eyelashes.

Nicke’s hand on his neck makes him settle even farther, familiar enough that he doesn’t startle beneath it. 

“Showing off, Sasha?” Nicke’s voice is amused, and Sasha tips his head into his grasp, humming in reply. He’s at once brimming with eagerness to get his cock wet and at the same time content to luxuriate in the waiting. “Go on, then.”

Sasha lights up as Nicke releases him, reaching for Zhenya. As usual, Zhenya has to make a big deal out of pretending he doesn’t want to be fucked, maybe he’ll just shove Sasha to his knees instead and have his mouth, maybe they shouldn’t have sex at all, just go to sleep; all three times as irritating when Sasha isn’t allowed to answer in words, but thankfully his mouth has plenty of other applications, and a particularly hard bite to Zhenya’s shoulder puts paid to any idiocy about not wanting to have sex with him. Zhenya glares at him, but also his dick is rock hard against Sasha’s thigh, and his stupid red mouth is hanging open in a silent cry before he remembers to close it. Sasha flips him over, using both hands to pull his ass cheeks open and lick a long stripe up Zhenya’s taint. 

It’s rare that Sasha gets to eat someone out with the use of his hands  — usually he’s either tied down or Nicke’s grinding down on his face or some combination of the two. Not that he’s complaining about any of those situations, obviously, but being able to use his hands has some advantages as well. He can fumble for the lube, for example, and get two fingers in Zhenya and use the other hand to keep a steady stroke over Zhenya’s cock.

He’s up to three fingers when a distinct moan makes both he and Zhenya look up. Nicke has two fingers tucked neatly into Sid’s mouth, and despite the fact that Sasha is literally about to fuck Zhenya it’s still one of the hottest things he’s ever seen, watching Sid lave Nicke’s fingers like if he does a good enough job there’s a trophy at the end of it for him. Nicke’s head is bent towards him, shower-wet tendrils of hair slowly starting to curl at the ends, and Sasha wants to fling himself at Nicke’s feet, too, and beg for whatever punishment, task, or absolution Nicke is giving. The feeling gives a vicious twist to the next scissor of his fingers inside Zhenya, who grunts in protest, but that’s really just too bad, because he’s stretched enough and about to get the best fucking of his life.

Sasha spreads a fistful of lube over his cock, dripping the remainder into Zhenya’s hole just for good measure, and then pushes in. Just the tip. As expected, it takes less than thirty seconds for Zhenya’s head to swing around. “What the fuck, Sasha. I’m not going to break; put it in me.”

Sasha pats him soothingly on the thigh and gives him another half inch before he stops. Before Zhenya can grumble at him again, he picks up Zhenya’s cock, stroking it with just the tips of his fingers, leaning down to kiss at the bites he’d left earlier. When Zhenya’s half started complaint has died away into a moan, Sasha sinks in further, bringing his other hand to play gently with Zhenya’s balls and the tender skin between them and where Sasha is buried in his hole. Feeling suitably smug, he looks over again to Nicke and Sid.

Now Sid is spread out on the rug, both hands stretched above his head to grasp at the solid posts of their coffeetable (maybe probably purchased for its ability to withstand four hockey players having sex in near proximity). Nicke’s clever fingers are stroking over his nipples and his small sour mouth is nipping at Sid’s generous thighs. He looks up; catches Sasha’s eye. His gaze flickers pointedly to Sasha’s cock, and he mouths ‘Don’t. Come.’ before he bends down again and his hair falls forward, leaving Sasha with no choice but to sink himself to the hilt into Zhenya, hands and mouth resuming their work with grim renewal. 

He doesn’t even have a cockring on. Nicke is determined to torture him; fine. He can do this  — give Zhenya the best fuck of his life and not come himself. Easy. 

And Zhenya, for once, seems happy enough to comply, given that any protestations have died away to be replaced with moans and grunts when Sasha bottoms out and whines when Sasha’s hands fall away for any reason. As the noises escalate, Sasha pulls out completely, ignoring the noise of dismay, and slaps Zhenya’s flank, urging him to turn over. Grumbling, because he’s always happiest that way and who is Sasha to stand in the way of that, Zhenya resettles himself on the couch, and Sasha slides back in, taking him deep and at the same instant leaning down to capture Zhenya’s leaking cock in his free hand, rubbing hard at the head. It only takes another five minutes before Zhenya is coming with a shout, shoving Sasha’s hand away where he was trying to stroke him through it. Ungrateful, just like always, and here’s Sasha still hard as a rock despite the beauty status dicking he’s just given Zhenya, but  _ he’s _ not complaining. He licks Zhenya’s come off his hand, enjoying the way Zhenya’s eyes track the motion of his tongue.

Zhenya does reach somewhat half-heartedly for his cock, to return the favor, but Sasha shakes his head, glancing over at Nicke, who is looking back. He beckons to them both, and Sasha stumbles to his side, letting himself collapse with his head on Nicke’s thigh and whining, just a little. Just to make sure Nicke knows he’s being good, but also that he’s suffering.

Nicke ignores him, looking at Zhenya. “Was it good for you?” He asks politely, like he’s asking if the shower temperature was nice, or the coffeemaker worked as advertised. Sasha goes hot all over with the delicious thrill of it.

Zhenya just shrugs, the asshole, but when Nicke raises an eyebrow he grins, a little. “Yeah. Sasha always good at fuck, even if he not so good at hockey.”

“Something to fall back on,” Nicke says, dry, and Sasha goes hot again, thinking about that, about Nicke whoring him out, once he’s no good for hockey any more. Faceless, nameless men coming and paying Nicke for the privilege of borrowing him to fuck, or maybe for him to fuck them; the fantasy is intoxicating, even if the reality pales in comparison. He only wants Nicke. 

Well, and sometimes Zhenya and Sid. Which, speaking of, Sid’s eyes have opened, and he’s glancing around, dazed and clearly flying high. Nicke says to him, “It’s all right, Sid; Geno and Alex are finished now, and they’re here to help me with you. You’ll be good for us, right?”

“Yes,” Sid breathes, and then, frowning just a little, “G?”

“I’m here, Sidushka,” Zhenya bends forward, into Sid’s line of sight. One of his enormous hands settles comfortingly on Sid’s hip and side. “You so good for Nicky, yes? Now you be good for me too.”

“Nicky,” Sid says. “Alex?”

Sasha kneels up, fluttering his eyelashes at Sid ridiculously, but it does the job, and Sid laughs. 

“There,” Nicke says, smiling. “All present and accounted for. Now I want you to be quiet for me, yes? Unless you need to use your word. Sasha  — Alex — is going to keep that pretty mouth occupied for a while.”

Sid hums, opening his mouth with eager obedience, and Sasha is happy enough to take the invitation, hooking a finger in and dragging it open further before bending down to let Sid kiss the taste of Zhenya out of his mouth.

It’s not exactly easy to ignore his own needs, but it’s easier with Nicke’s voice twining with Zhenya’s as they murmur to each other and to Sasha and Sid; directing their kisses even as they open Sid slowly. Sasha wonders if he’s going to be ordered to fuck Sid  — a delight, ordinarily, but he’s plenty on edge still from Zhenya, and if his poor dick has to go through that again in Sidney Crosby’s ass he’s a little afraid he might have to break and ask for a ring.

Sid moans into Sasha’s mouth, his body arcing off the rug, and Sasha looks up to see Nicke pushing slowly into Sid. Geno’s mouth is on his cock, a mirror of Sasha’s own on Zhenya’s earlier, gentling him with both hands. Sasha pauses only to adjust himself, biting back a groan of his own, before he bends again to his own task. He’s familiar enough with the rhythmn of Nicke’s reward-fucking to be able to match it, tongue mimicking the motions of Nicke’s cock, and between the three of them it’s little wonder that it takes very little time for Sidhim to spill into Zhenya’s mouth. Nicke’s hips still, but he doesn’t pull out, waiting through the spill of it and then leaning forward to catch Sid’s eyes with his own. “Can I finish in you, or will it be too much?”

Sid visibly hesitates, still trembling with aftershocks, but after a second he nods, squaring his shoulders like he’s about to take a pivotal faceoff. “I can take it.”

Nicke holds his gaze a moment longer and then nods, starting to move again, but instead of pulling out he simply stays seated, grinding his hips in small circles. Still knelt by Sid’s head, Sasha licks his lips. It feels like much longer than a day since he’s had a taste of Nicke’s cock, or his mouth, or his  — any part of him. He wonders if maybe their places have changed irrevocably, and instead of him Nicke is now the divinity, with all the advantages and drawbacks, and Sasha his foremost priest who will die without a sign from his god.

Further proof of this theory is that Nicke looks up, eyes catching and holding on Sasha’s own, and he smiles, just a little, and beckons Sasha to him. Sasha goes, so eager to accept the little biting kisses Nicke doles out that he almost doesn’t notice when Nicke finally comes until he’s being pulled back and Nicke’s hand on the back of his neck pushes him down to Nicke’s cock.

He cleans Nicke up; carefully, as gently as he knows how, his own needs distant in favor of whatever Nicke asks of him. 

“My good boys,” Nicke says, softly, pulling Sasha’s head to rest nestle in the crease of his thigh, and Sasha realises, a little distantly, that he’s been in subspace for probably quite a while. It’s not important, here and now. He’s safe, and warm, and with his family, and the rest of the world can wait. 

**Author's Note:**

> as promised.


End file.
